


Fantasy

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: Alfred's college roommate was nothing like he'd always dreamed his roommate would be, and he hoped to god that despite the differences, he would still get to live out his fantasy.





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> trying out something new

When Alfred heard there was a possibility he could be rooming with an omega, yes, his mind had fabricated a few fantasies he wouldn’t have minded coming true.

It would be a slow-burn romance, he had decided. He would walk in to find his roommate struggling to unpack- a quirky omega surrounded in a charming mess. Alfred would help them clean up, and the omega would look at Alfred like he was some sort of angel.

Alfred would introduce himself and their hands would touch. Sparks would fly.

Yes, well, it’s not like he’d ever expected to walk in and find the dorm room parted down the middle in a roll of masking tape, with one side furnished reminiscent to Alfred’s summers spent as a child in his grandparents’ house. No, it wasn’t the omega Alfred had expected to see behind those dorm doors, not with a pair of shorts revealing long, long legs, and perhaps some camp shirt paired with it because  _outdoorsy-omegas really were Alfred’s type._

Rather, it was one clad in clothes Alfred hadn’t expected to see on anyone in the dead heat that day. It was a long-sleeved sweater with full-length trousers, a crease between those thick, dark brows as he buried his nose in a book Alfred remembered being forced to read in high school.

“Hey, you must be my roommate!” Alfred had said with a light chuckle, extending his hand.

And the omega- Arthur, as he would later introduce himself with a huff- glanced up at him as if Alfred was gum under his new shoes. “Great. A jock.”

There were definitely a few things off about Alfred’s fantasy.

In fact- and wow, it really felt foolish now to recall it- but Alfred had wondered what it would be like to sleep in a dorm with an omega. Perhaps to watch them crawl into bed in their little silk night shorts- or staying up at night to study for their class, and Alfred would try to help them, like a gentleman.

Alfred’s luck didn’t even give him that.

“Aren’t you a little hot in those?” Alfred had remarked almost dejectedly as Arthur emerged from the closet in a pair of cotton-wool pajamas, so close in pattern to the ones Alfred had imagined Ebenezer Scrooge would wear.

Arthur had scowled at him, and Alfred was used to it, by then. To see Arthur scowl.

“Oh yeah, real hot. I’d bet you’d enjoy it if I took them off.”

And then he’d shoved under the covers, cracking open a book with a grumble.

Well, if anything, there was one element of Alfred’s thoughts that seemed to stick with this Arthur fellow. Alfred had always imagined his roommate would be the studious type- and that Alfred would introduce them to an exhilarating college life.

Arthur was definitely the studious type, but like everything else, he had no interest in the things Alfred had to offer.

“Hey, there’s a party tomorrow at my friend’s dorm-”

“Sorry, I’ve got homework.”

“How about next week? I think I know someone who’s-”

“I think I’ll be sick then.” Arthur would remark with a self-satisfied smirk, fingers tapping away on his laptop.

And Alfred would pout, because he had finally understood his dream of a cliched roommate romance had died a long time ago.

That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t pester the man until he got a friendship out of it, though.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat?” Alfred had asked one day, and Arthur peered over at him from his place washing the dishes. It had been Arthur’s turn to do the chores that day. Alfred’s would be the next day, but since he liked to do his chores late, he found that Arthur would grow mad during the wait and just do everything himself.

Needless to say, it was a nice arrangement. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t really know you that well, that’s all.” Alfred had replied.

“You don’t need to know me.” Arthur snapped and what followed were soft sounds of water splashing on plates. Alfred waited, like he usually did when he would ask Arthur to go out and grab some doughnuts for breakfast, and Arthur would just growl at him, with a silence following.

And then the response, almost a sigh, defeated from the battle with Alfred’s pleading blue eyes. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind a nice takeout from that Indian place a few minutes down.”

Yes, Alfred remembered these things about him, especially when it all became too much. He remembered to slip on his jacket, slip on his shoes, and do it quietly as Arthur sobbed into his hands behind him. Alfred had remembered fantasizing about wanting to wrap his arms around his schoolwork-distressed roommate once or twice- but with Arthur, it was going out to bring him takeout and pretending there was nothing wrong that did the trick.

Arthur was too proud for condolence. Alfred would instead watch those watery eyes glance over at the food in gratitude, and Arthur would take small bites and smaller breaths as Alfred went on with his own homework on the bed opposite.

But it wasn’t always so tender. Or at least Alfred didn’t feel that way on the days they had a break from academics, and Alfred would decide to pursue a college dating life.

Oscar was his name, if Alfred remembered correctly. A cute omega he’d met while doing the laundry. He’d decided to bring him home one day, and yes,  _he distinctly remembered telling Arthur to go to the library or something because Alfred wasn’t keen on interruption._

He should’ve known Arthur ‘wasn’t listening’, or at least that he would play that card because he was just that evil. Alfred had learned it the hard way leaning in to press his lips against Oscar’s only to have Arthur pop open the front door, arms full of grocery bags.

“I bought extra scent inhibitor patches so you won’t go crazy on me this time like you did in my last heat.” Arthur had said. Loudly.

He then feigned surprise finding the pair on the bed. “Oh, was your date  _today?”_

Bastard.

Bastard, bastard, _bastard_ , and Alfred had hit him with all the pillows in their room when Oscar had left after deciding he had forgotten to do his homework that day.

_“Arthur Kirkland, you’re such a jerk.”_

-Because he  _was_  a jerk. Yet despite his roommate’s nature, Alfred still found himself scrambling to throw a surprise party for the man’s birthday only weeks later. It was a small, inner-circle gathering of people Alfred had no relation with, but he remembered on many occasions seeing them with Arthur around campus. It was different, really, because with them, Arthur seemed to smile. A lot.

That was hardly something he could say about Arthur when he was in the same room as Alfred.

Alfred had asked him why and Arthur had told him after everyone had left, “It’s simple.”

A satisfied half-smile sat on his lips because although he was never one for socialization, the cake had been just sweet enough, the conversation just mild enough and the gifts just plenty enough. “I smile because I’m supposed to smile.”

“And you’re not supposed to smile around me?”

“I’m not expected to,” Arthur said breezily. He paused. “It’s nice.”

Alfred supposed he felt the same,  _nice_ , seeing as a fluttering warmth had throbbed in his face, beaming through his smile. “You’re a weirdo.”

See, Arthur was a weirdo and Alfred had known from the beginning, from the first time he’d seen that scowl, that he should’ve just forgotten his childhood fantasy. He should’ve forgotten that  _dream-roommate_  that would giggle and flatter Alfred like there was no tomorrow, or, at least forgotten long enough that Alfred could see the pink on Arthur’s cheeks when he’d tell Alfred his jacket suited him. Alfred should’ve forgotten the late-night parties, and carrying his drunk, babbling  _dream-roommate_  back into their dorm, when he had already been carrying instead a sleep-deprived Arthur off the couch and into his own bed. 

He should’ve forgotten a dream candle-light dinner where he would have his first kiss with his roommate, and he did. He had absolutely, positively forgotten it all in favor of the quiet night in, with Arthur eating ramen noodles beside him on the couch, when Arthur had rolled his eyes at the liquid dribbling off Alfred’s chin.

“You damn man-child.”

And he’d dabbed his napkin against Alfred’s chin. He’d dabbed it against Alfred’s lips, pausing, as if to inspect his work.

And Alfred’s fantasies had crumbled to dust the second Arthur had kissed him.


End file.
